


Whiskey Dick

by Angelily_Viventis



Series: Alan Rickman x Plus-size reader [25]
Category: Alan Rickman - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Coitus Interruptus, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Funny, Jealous Alan, Married Couple, Married Life, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex, Sexual Humor, Size Difference, Uncircumcised Penis, Whiskey & Scotch, Whiskey Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24323041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelily_Viventis/pseuds/Angelily_Viventis
Summary: Alan and (Y/N) try their hands at drunken sex. Unfortunately, Alan cannot seem to get it up...
Relationships: Alan Rickman/Original Female Character(s), Alan Rickman/Reader
Series: Alan Rickman x Plus-size reader [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729954
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Whiskey Dick

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: these are individual one-shots and function as stand-alone chapters. None of the work in these series follow on each other unless indicated as "Parts"

It's past nine on a Thursday night as Alan heads into Phonox night club in Soho, London, in search of his wife.

For once, he didn’t work today and they agreed to meet up here after (Y/N)’s departmental meeting. Apparently, on Thursdays, this is the most appropriate place for creative professors to have their weekly meetings.

He halts at the door as he intently scans his surroundings. This bar is definitely for a younger crowd and Alan feels like the tin of tuna in the back of the cupboard that no-one ever opens. Upbeat music blares over speakers and he’s certain there’s a speaker located somewhere just above where he is standing, arms folded as he leans against the doorway.

The club is divided into three sections, two of which are downstairs. The downstairs area consists of the bar and dance floor, with a number of intimate VIP sectioned-off areas enclosed by draped white linen ( _which people probably use to do unspeakable things in_ ). The upstairs area is for reservations only and consists of multiple booths and tables for patrons to eat. Not that anybody would come here to _eat._

The club has a sort of underground feel to it, with brown brick walls, dark wooden columns, and dark hardwood floors. The lights are currently a soft glow of yellow, nothing too dark just yet.

He hears a group of people over at the bar cheering loudly, clapping, and he looks over, spotting his wife among them, placing an empty shot glass on the bar top that she just downed.

He smirks to himself, he loves when her wild side comes out to play once in a while. He was about to walk over to her when he sees a handsomely tall man tap her on the shoulder.

Judging by his looks - black wavy hair, dark unkempt beard, and _biceps for days -_ he must be Richard. (Y/N) has mentioned him before to Alan and he was about to go forward and introduce himself, but sees (Y/N) spin around, nodding her head with a smile, before the both of them make their way onto the dance floor.

His blood boils as he stands there watching his wife dance with another man - their bodies barely touching, the smiles splayed on their faces, enough to write home about. He watches as the man with tree trunks for arms spin his precious wife around, pulling her close to him.

He huffs in annoyance, looking around the place. His eyes scan the room, landing on a familiar figure near the bar - Thea. (Y/N)'s best friend and fellow colleague.

He smiles slightly, nodding his head minutely at her and she reciprocates the action. His eyes trail her as she moves hesitantly towards (Y/N) on the dance floor, whispering something in her ear.

He sees his wife's face light up at whatever Thea told her and her head turns towards the doorway, her eyes immediately finding his, totally disregarding the presence of the man she was just dancing with.

She spots him at the entranceway and walks over to him, looking up at him with a dreamy smile splayed across her features as if he didn't just witness everything.

 _Definitely tipsy_ , he thinks to himself.

“How much have I missed?” He shouts close to her ear as he tries to block out the loud music playing.

“We just finished the meeting. We officially concluded with a shot of Tequila,” she shouts back into his ear.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself rather nicely," he says with a bit of a bite in his tone, looking pointedly over at her group of colleagues.

She notices a hint of anger flashing in his eyes as they land on Richard.

"Yes, I am, in fact," she answers aloof with a shrug of her shoulders, her slightly unfocusing eyes taking in the delicious sight that was Alan Rickman.

He smells fresh - like he just got out of the shower, his hair slightly damp and combed back. He is wearing camel brown trousers with a navy blue dressing shirt, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his first three buttons at the base of his throat undone.

"I didn't know you can dance," he says after a few tense moments of silence.

"Pfha!" She snorts, trying to lighten the mood. "I wouldn't call that dancing - I can't dance to save my life. That was just some fun."

"Do you always have _some fun_ with that young lad?" He nods over to Richard with his head, giving a disapproving sneer as he watches the younger man.

"Richard is just a colleague, Al," she says quietly, placing a hand on his thick forearm, looking up at him pleadingly.

"Just colleagues, you say?" Alan asks, bitterness evident in his voice. "Does _he_ know that?"

She scans his eyes, before slightly giving a breathy smirk, "Do you see that beef palace standing right there?"

She moves slightly out of the way, standing next to Alan as she points towards Aldie with his arms crossed over his chest, looking handsome in a white dressing shirt and dark jeans, his raven black hair slicked back with hair product.

"Yes," he clips as he wonders if she finds that bloke attractive too.

"That is Aldie, his _partner_ ," she says victoriously, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

_A jealous Alan is so hot._

"The last time I checked, they don't swing my way, so yeah, I'd hope we're _just colleagues_."

"Do you enjoy making me jealous, (Y/N)?" He asks darkly as he turns towards her.

He's now incredibly close to her, towering over her as he looks down at her with pupils blown wide.

"Of course not," she breathes. "But occasionally, pointing out how wrong you are, feels pretty empowering."

"And yet, I find you here drinking excessively and dancing with some guy - gay or not," he grumbles angrily.

_Wait, I thought we're past this already?_

The dominance in his voice is sending shivers through her insides, but at the same time she finds it oddly annoying that he would accuse her of something that is completely innocent in her eyes.

"And what did you expect me to do, hm?" She asks sharply. "Decline his offer to dance and make it look like I'm homophobic? Alan, I'm his boss... Besides, didn't you just tell me last night that as a twenty-six-year-old I should have more fun? I'm blowing off some steam from all this stress I've been under at work for the past few months. So, I drank a little, and danced... That's what people my age do. Besides, nothing happened - my mind has been consumed with thoughts about you the entire day so far-"

She stops mid-sentence, the last part a bit of a drunken confession, more than what she wanted him to know.

She scoffs at the amusement flashing in Alan's eyes.

"It has, eh?" He asks, causing her to smile at the joyous smile that breaks out on his face.

"Of course, you big teddy bear," she says shyly as she pushes his arm gently.

He stiffens slightly as she stands on her tippy toes, peppering the underside of his jaw with gentle kisses.

"You're cute when you're jealous," she teasingly smiles.

" _Cute_?" He scoffs. "Of all the words available to you in your vast vocabulary and you settle on _cut_ e?" He grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

She gathers all the courage available to her and leans into him. Alan's response is immediate as his arms snake around her waist, holding her close.

"Sexy. _kiss._ Hot. _kiss._ Charismatic. Handsome. _kiss._ Captivating. _kiss._ Charming. _kiss._ Enchanting. _kiss._ Irresistible," she breathes, each word accentuated by a kiss pressed against his jaw and neck.

"A woman with a decent vocabulary is a dangerous thing," he muses with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips.

"I thought you liked it better when I did... _indecent_... things to you," she replies with a wicked smile, peering up at him from under her lashes.

"Woman, you're incorrigible," he says with a smile as his grip tightens around her waist.

"How about... You come with me and I'll introduce you to my colleagues?" She asks him with a smile, shaking her head to rid herself of the naughty thoughts about him running rampant through her mind.

All she really wants to do is ditch her workmates and propose to Alan that they go back to the house.

"God have mercy on my soul," he grumbles, trying to rid himself of the building heat between his legs.

She's got him all worked up right now.

She takes his hand and guides him through the crowd to where her group of colleagues is.

She goes around the group, introducing each person to Alan and vice versa. He already knows all about them, although they've never met - he always makes an effort to remember each and every person (Y/N) mentions to him in case she vents to him about one of them over a late-night cup of tea.

Even after a good few years of knowing each other and three years of being married, (Y/N) will never get tired of how old-fashioned and proper his terminology is. His mannerisms reflect his character and it's nice to see common cutesy hasn't disappeared completely.

"Alan, this is Jean-Claude Laurent, director of the art gallery at uni. This here is Richard Hön, he runs all the doctoral candidates at uni. This is Aldie Beck, his partner. And of course, Thea you know..." She introduces everyone.

"Everyone, this is my husband, Alan Rickman," she indicates at him as if presenting a prize, blushing shyly.

"Hey, Al," Thea greets with a smile, leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Good to see you again, Thea," he politely greets back, giving her a quick hug.

"Finally! We manage to meet the man that (Y/N) always speaks so fondly of," Richard jokes and smiles teasingly in her direction. "Although she never told us that she's married to _the Alan Rickman_."

"Giiirl, you got it goooooood," Aldie drawls in a dramatical fashion, causing (Y/N)'s cheeks to blush.

"Yeah, it's great to meet you, Alan," Jean-Claude says, offering Alan a firm handshake. "(Y/N) always speaks highly of you. We've been thinking that it's impossible for one man to meet all the criteria of _a perfect man_ and yet, here you are."

She glares daggers at her colleagues, who seem to be intent on making fun of her in front of Alan.

"You think I'm perfect?" Alan coos quietly, looking down at his wife, clearly enjoying watching her discomfort.

As the group quickly turns to each other, the conversations steering in an array of topics, he sees her swallow, no doubt trying to bite back tears, as he knows it must feel emotionally vulnerable having her feelings towards him exposed like that.

"Hush, darling," his voice fans her ear from behind, his breath tickling the skin of her neck as he presses a sweet kiss against her temple. "They're just teasing. Relax."

His voice has a calming effect on her and she leans back against him, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist as they come to rest on her stomach.

"Sorry about earlier," she screws her eyes shut as she says quietly. "If I'd known you were already here-"

"You wouldn't have danced with him?" Alan interrupts, but there's no annoyance in his voice this time.

"No, I probably still would have. I would just have asked you if you minded, first," she replies with a shrug.

Alan nods. "I like your friends... colleagues, whatever. I don't mind you drinking or dancing with them. Besides, I feel safe knowing that all of them - except for Thea - is gay."

Alan doesn’t mind, not really - at least it gives (Y/N) a chance to hang out with friends her own age instead of their usual crowd, consisting of old retirees.

"Careful, Aldie might just ask me later tonight if he can suck you off," she replies with a giggle.

"Watch your mouth, young lady," he smirks before resting his head on her shoulder, tightening his grip from behind her.

"You know... It never really bothered me, the years between us. But seeing you like this, with your friends, dancing and drinking and just having a good time... It makes me realize how much younger you are," Alan's tone turns serious.

"No, don't say that," she whispers solemnly, turning her head to look up at him. "This isn't who I am on the daily, _you_ know that. It's only who I _like_ to be sometimes - wild and carefree... The real me is who I am when I'm with you, and I like that person. I like the way I am when I'm with you. I like the way you make me feel grounded and calm. Isn't that what matters?"

"...You are wise beyond your years, woman," Alan smiles down at her. "And I love the way you make me feel young again when I'm with you," he adds in a whisper, hoping that she wouldn't hear it.

But of course, she does. Her eyes glimmer with mirth as she concocts a plan in her mind for later. 

“What will you have then?” He asks close to her ear.

“Fire whiskey, please, love,” she replies, turning in his hold before pulling him into her plump body and placing a delicious kiss on his lips which startles Alan slightly.

She would never do something so bold under sober conditions, especially out in public and in front of work colleagues.

After they pull apart, Alan places their order with the barman and opens a tab, quietly requesting that the barman put the whole group’s expenses for the night on his credit card.

Both (Y/N) and Alan down a shot of fire whiskey each before Alan orders a double tequila elderflower drink for her and a triple whiskey on the rocks for himself. As she moves away to speak to Thea, Alan takes the time to mingle with (Y/N)’s colleagues, making sure he stays up to date with each’s doings.

It's now past eleven which means the older crowd has moved on, the music now changing immensely to accommodate the younger crowd who seems eager to party. The dance floor is now overflowing with people, so much so that it feels like Alan is going to suffocate.

He catches his wife's attention and nods his head in the direction of the dance floor. She smiles and walks his way before he shuffles through the crowd with (Y/N) by his side, quickly securing them a small space on the dance floor. He looks around feeling out of place - it is now too damn hot and overcrowded inside this stupid club.

The whole floor is dancing with laser lights that glimmer in oscillating shades of blue and purple, seeming to match the beat of the music.

He steps in close enough that he can smell the tequila on (Y/N)'s breath mixed with her sweet perfume, it is intoxicating as he leans in to speak into her ear.

“Dance with me,” is all he can manage as the loud music drowns out his thoughts.

There's a certain smoldering look about Alan once he's had a few to drink that only (Y/N) and a few close friends get to see on a night out, which causes her to go weak in the knees.

She smiles with a nod before he pulls her into his arms as if she was made to fit in them. She's pressed close to his body, his one hand resting on her waist, the other holding her hand as their fingers intertwine.

Almost instinctively, her hand finds its way to his broad shoulder. Every curve of her thick body is now pressed against every line of his as he smiles down at her. He pulls her closer with ease, his hand sliding around her waist, their bodies touching.

Once they start dancing, Alan shows a rhythmic sort of grace, a fluidity to his movements that (Y/N) is well known to now. Just like his acting, he pours every bit of his skill and talent into it.

Alan dominates the dance, effortlessly leading (Y/N) through every step, with a precision and determination that ends up leaving her breathless and lightheaded from all the alcohol.

Her heart starts violently beating against her ribcage as Alan leans into her, her back arching against him, her leg automatically lifting and hooking around his thigh in search of balance as he sweeps her in a slow sensual circle.

There's a sort of roughness to his moves tonight and it's passionate, far more intense than anything he's ever showed before. Alan spins her out to the right before pulling her back to him fiercely. She loves the way his hand on her hip roams as they move, time and again squeezing her buttocks inconspicuously.

He holds her firmly, both of their hands still intertwined but now resting against his chest, leaving no space between them. Their bodies are touching as he looks down into her chocolate orbs. It feels far too intimate to be happening on the dance floor, but then again, no one is watching - most of the patrons grinding endlessly into each other without a care in the world.

As he dominates the dance yet again, his movements show authority which (Y/N) finds incredibly sexy and she has to summon up what little defiance she has left in order not for her to grab him and kiss him like the way that she wants to right now.

Effortlessly, he lowers her, dipping her backward so her short hair falls down her neck as he bends accordingly. His lips brush over her neck as his body curves over hers, causing a low hiss to escape her as his roman nose brush past her collarbone. He's holding her up with every bit of strength that he has, and she has to trust him, which she does. His hand runs up her leg which is hiked around his waist, which causes her to lose her breath and him to smirk against her skin.

His eyes lock with hers, their noses nearly touching. One tiny movement will mean that their lips will touch and she'll have no control over her actions then. She'll most definitely jump his bones right there and then on the dance floor.

Judging by the intensity of Alan's gaze, she can tell that he'll be willing to close that distance and kiss her like she's been begging to be kissed. Just as he's about to move a fraction closer, the beat of the music changes to something far more energetic, the strobe lights now flickering at a thousand beats a second - enough to give anybody a seizure.

She clears her throat before shouting close to his ear, "I don't think this type of dancing is suitable for this music anymore."

She can see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he brings her back up to stand straight in front of him. She knows he's trying to show her a good time, but he's just too old fashioned for this clubbing scene.

It doesn't matter though, because tonight she'll show him _her_ way of having a good time.

They let go of each other as they dance separately. Seeing Alan concoct his own freestyle dance moves, a bit clumsily, is most amusing to (Y/N). She snickers but appreciates his joyous spirit.

She decides to show him how the younger crowd does it and shimmies over to him, swaying her hips sensually as she moves. She holds on to his one shoulder as she gently rocks her hips side to side against him.

Alan's breath hitches in his throat as he feels her womanhood rubbing against his now slightly twitching member. He watches her through hooded eyelids as she moves with the music, lowering herself and coming back up, meanwhile tracing her finger down his chest.

She turns around, taking his large hands in hers and guiding them to run up and down her sides as they bob together. She pulls him towards her, and he slowly makes his way closer to her back, starting to grind against her.

Heat builds low in her core as the delicious friction against her buttocks sends tingles up her spine. She leans back against him as they move, resting the back of her head against his shoulder.

His hand moves up, gripping her shoulder-length bob and moving it out of the way, exposing her slender neck to him.

He places sloppy kisses along the shaft of her neck causing her to whimper softly. The music is too loud for him to hear, but he feels her vibrations as his wet lips latch onto her soft skin.

Her hands reach behind her, resting on the sides of his thighs as his lace around her middle. Feeling motivated, he grinds deeper into her and she can feel lust now clouding all her senses.

Courageously, her hand slowly moves between their sandwiched bodies, resting near his groin. He feels tingles as she moves closer to his nether region. Stilling her hand to gauge whether or not he's going to pull away, she moves her hand and places it directly over his restrained bulge.

"Hmm, naughty," he groans low in her ear, rubbing up against her palm.

She bites her lower lip, a smile of triumph tugging at the corners of her mouth. She gives a tight squeeze with her palm which causes his knees to buck and him to rest his forehead against the base of her neck.

Mischievously, she feels him through his trousers, feeling his length now rock hard, creating a very visible ridge underneath his trousers. She smirks, knowing how much power she has over him, and gently runs her hand along his clothed length, no doubt pressing up against his thigh.

Alan's breath hitches in his throat and his hands instinctively latch onto her clothed breasts, squeezing them hard.

They grind like that for a good few minutes when she starts noticing how frustrated he's getting as he keeps pressing harder into her palm. She knows what he wants, but she's not sure if here would be a good place. The last thing she wants is for someone to walk in on them going at each other in a club bathroom and posting everything online.

Her eyes spark with an idea and she blindly fingers his metal zipper, pulling it slowly down. She can feel him stilling behind her, yet she continues to snake her hand into his trousers, peering into the opening in his boxer briefs.

His fingers tighten on her hips as she takes his fleshy cock in hand, gently stroking his soft foreskin. With a quick maneuver, she takes his member out much to Alan's surprise.

"What are you doing?" He asks through gritted teeth as he presses into her, trying to cover himself against her back.

"Relax, no one can see anything in this crowd," she throws her head back and whispers seductively in his ear.

He closes his eyes and lets out a breath as she starts stroking him, the pair of them continuing their grinding. He cannot believe his cock is now fully exposed in public and the other dancers around them are none the wiser.

The thrill of getting caught is exhilarating as he slowly snakes his hands to the waist of her jeans, gently tugging her tucked-in blouse lose.

She can feel his fingertips now grazing her skin, causing her to sighs heavily. She's not sure what his planned path is as his fingers rest on her stomach inside her jeans.

_Is he headed northbound or south?_

She doesn't care, as long as he does it quickly as her body starts vibrating in anticipation.

Her breath hitches as his large hand travels under her shirt, slipping into her bra, as he starts squeezing at her nipples. She's much shorter than he is - about two heads shorter - and the way his arms are resting now under her pits are making it difficult for her to keep rubbing him.

She turns around, his arms slipping out from her bra, and latches onto his soft lips. She deep kisses him, her tongue playfully toying with his. He starts grinding against her again, his cock now sliding up and down against her thigh. His arms reach behind her and his hands squeeze her buttocks, indicating to her that she needs to rock faster.

She sneaks her hand between their sandwiched bodies again, tugging at his length.

"Hey, guys," Thea appears, slightly startling the couple.

(Y/N) snakes her arms around his waist quickly, pressing his body tight against hers in an attempt to hide his exposed genitals.

"Hey!" (Y/N) shouts over the droning music.

"I'm gonna head out, I'll see you tomorrow, (Y/N)," she leans in close to her friend's ear.

(Y/N) peers past Thea's shoulder, spotting an older man waiting anxiously for her.

"Okay," she muses. "Be safe, Thea," she winks at the older woman.

"I need to fuck you," Alan growls low in her ear after Thea leaves before he stuffs himself into his trousers to the best of his abilities.

 _So primal,_ her thoughts growl inside her head. They're both thoroughly drunk at this point and she can't wait to get him home to let him have his wicked way with her.

He pulls her by the hand towards the bar to say goodbye to her colleagues - _ever the gentleman._

"You guys headed out?" Aldie enquires, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

_Perhaps he knows something..._

"Yeah, we're going to call it a night. It was a pleasure meeting you all, Jean-Claude... Richard... Aldie..." He shakes each man's hand firmly while still holding onto (Y/N) with his other hand.

"That was so goddam hot I think _I'm_ going to need a cold shower," Aldie whispers close to her ear, smiling deviously as she pulls back in surprise, her eyes meeting his.

She's feeling out of breath, unsure of what to say. (Y/N) is currently too drunk, too excited, and _too horn_ y to form a coherent sentence.

Luckily, Alan comes to the rescue as she feels his comforting presence behind her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"You gentlemen have a good night," he drawls and pulls her slightly by the hand as they move through the crowd and towards the exit.

Alan's arm is wrapped around her shoulder as they sway along the sidewalk. She can no longer keep her hands off him and decides to push him up against the brick wall of a building, peppering kisses along his jaw.

Alan seems to have a hard time fighting the urge to kiss her back. Finally, he wraps his arms around her waist, leaning in as he locks his lips with hers. By this time, (Y/N) is ready to pounce him right here and now in the street.

A group of cackling women approaches, causing the couple to quickly untwine themselves and straighten their appearance.

"Oh, my god! It's Alan Rickman," one exclaims loudly and the group rushes up to them, camera phones at the ready.

(Y/N) inconspicuously moves away from Alan, standing at the back of the group, blending in nicely. She snickers as she watches him drunkenly sign his name on the various pieces of paper and photographs they're providing, yet he sternly declines the offer when one woman asks him to sign her tits.

"Might want to call her an ambulance," he slurs slightly as one woman shrieks, passing out against her friend when she touched Alan's hand as he passed the pen back to her.

With the group quickly dispersing, Alan grabs (Y/N)'s hand, and they hurriedly walk into their townhouse, shutting the door hastily.

It might be because she's drunk. Or horny. Or both. But she soon finds herself out of control as she presses her body tight against his, kissing him fervently on his mouth. She can feel just how aroused he is due to her close proximity.

The fact that she has this much power over him is exhilarating and she reciprocates by grinding the lower half of her body into his. She is rewarded by a strangled moan leaving Alan's throat and she smiles wickedly against his lips, her fingers trailing his broad shoulders, trying to undo his buttons.

He stops her, his hands coming up to hold onto hers, smiling devilishly down at her.

"As much as I like where this is going, I'd rather have this happen in the privacy of our bedroom," he tells her, leading her up the wooden stairs.

Once inside the room, she wastes no time reaching for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She shimmies out of her black jeans and takes a single step forward, Alan swallowing hard as she's now only clad in her black lacy lingerie one-piece.

(***Copyright image ©)

She kicks the door behind her shut with her foot, causing Alan slight alarm. He freezes, his heavy chestnut eyes lazily roaming her voluptuous figure. He swallows again and his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

It is enthralling to see the type of reaction she can elicit from the great actor. Her lips curve upwards in a mischievous smile at his heated look, his eyes now lingering on her lower parts, his eyes zoning in on the translucent material covering her shaven sex.

She slowly walks towards him, biting her lower lip and adding extra sway to her hips.

Never having seen her drunk like this before, Alan has no idea where this sudden boldness of hers is coming from - _probably the alcohol_ \- but he's not about to question it now.

When she's in close proximity again, she reaches up, slinging her arms loosely around his neck, taking in his warm scent. She's certain that she can smell his arousal at this point.

Her hands slide teasingly down his fleshy neck, undoing the row of buttons of his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders.

He moans as her delicately manicured fingers rake across his skin, eliciting raised goosebumps from him. Her hands trail across the planes of his chest, down his midriff, towards his abdomen, as his muscles shudder underneath her touch. He looks at her with a dark fire burning in his chestnut eyes.

"Fuck," he curses, clenching his jaw tightly.

She reaches down for his belt, deftly unbuckling it, pleasure and anticipation spreading through her veins, the alcohol giving her the courage she needs to remain in control and forget about her self-consciousness.

"You drive me crazy, (Y/N)," he groans, his breathing becoming more labored as she reaches his zipper, slowly pulling it down.

Another ragged groan escapes him as her hand slips into his boxer briefs. She smiles devilishly knowing that only she can elicit such sounds from him.

"Good crazy, or bad...?" She teases before he interrupts her by pressing his mouth harshly against hers. His tongue seeks entrance and she grants it happily, immediately spreading her lips apart. She hums softly in the back of her throat as his thumb brushes over the dainty lace of her lingerie.

"Both," he utters as they finally come up for air.

He leans in and kisses her again, hotly, passionately. His hands reach to her backside, squeezing harshly and she notes the unadulterated desire flickering in his eyes.

"Why bad crazy too?" She asks petulantly, stilling in the kiss.

Her breath hitches as he nibbles at the soft skin of her shoulder, hissing as his teeth scrape her skin before he soothes it with a flick of his tongue.

_Oooh, the things that tongue can do..._

She trembles in his arms before he hoists her up, his hands sliding down the back of her thighs, cupping them to hold her steady. Her legs wrap around his waist, Alan walking her back and laying her gently down onto their bed.

They both stumble slightly as Alan's grip falters, causing him to land on top of her.

He chuckles before getting back into character and saying, "only when you manage to make me jealous without even trying."

He grumbles, his arresting speech sending shivers of delight down her spine as he speaks against her skin. His jaw is smooth as he kisses his way down the column of her throat.

"It-it wasn't on purpose," she whines, but it comes out as a breathless plea as Alan's lips trail a fiery path down her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts, fingers splayed against her pudgy stomach.

A non-committal hum is all he gives in response, both of them too far gone to continue coherent dialogue.

Alan strips himself of the last bit of pants he is wearing, coming back to straddle (Y/N)'s waist. He warms his hands by rubbing them together fast and then taking himself in hand, sliding the piece of lingerie between her legs out of the way. He gives a few long strokes and tugs before aiming for her dripping wet entrance.

It’s already difficult to focus in his drunken state and the bedside lamp isn’t providing enough visibility. He reaches between them and struggles to insert himself.

“Where is..." he feels for her entrance, "never mind,” he mumbles drunkenly as he slips inside of his wife. With just one thrust he slips right out of her with a wet plop.

(Y/N) can only giggle at his failed attempt.

“My apologies, let me try again,” he chuckles and focuses again by biting his tongue between his teeth.

After another failed attempt she offers, “Do you need some visual stimulation, dear?”

“Hmmmmm,” he growls satisfactorily at her suggestion.

(Y/N) reaches slowly down to her core and teases her slit with her middle finger causing her back to arch. She gently starts rubbing her nub and moans out loudly.

Sadly this does nothing for Alan as his mind is as blank as a sheet of paper. He takes his limp cock in his hand again and slaps it against her stomach in the hopes to turn him on. He swears it’s not her. On any other day doing something so dirty would've made him cum in mere minutes.

 _Maybe the build-up took too long,_ he figures, rubbing his thumb over his tip again.

He can’t seem to harden as he tries stroke after stroke to get himself erect which only causes (Y/N) to giggle more. By this point she has completely forgotten about pleasing herself.

Her laugh is so infectious that Alan cannot help to chuckle along with her. They both laugh so hard that (Y/N)’s eyes squint shut, preventing her from seeing anything. Tears leak out of Alan’s eyes with each heartfelt chuckle and he can feel his stomach starting to stitch from all the laughing.

He slides off of her and plops down next to her on the bed. After their laughter dies down and they both try to catch their breaths, he intertwines their hands and looks over at her.

“I seem to have whiskey dick, I’m sorry, darling. I can take one of the blue pills?” He offers through some after-giggles.

She breathes a breathy chuckle, “No, it’s alright. I’m waaaaay to drunk to appreciate your mind-blowing sex anyway.”

“Right you are!” He leans over and pecks her on her lips while covering their naked bodies with the crisp white bedsheet before both of them pass out cold.


End file.
